Moments of Peace
by Blue Eyes At Night
Summary: An EomerLothiriel OneShot. They met three times before they married... RR


A/N- So….all my HP fans are extremely angry with me for not updating their fic, and my other LOTR fans are angry for not updating theirs…..Sorry! I haven't forgotten! I promise!

As for this? Well….Deandra has had a lasting impact on me, and I wanted to try and make an Eomer/Lothiriel one-shot in the caliber of hers, and when my babysitting clients didn't get in until after midnight I had some free time to jot down this.

I hope you guys like it! Review please.

**Moments of Peace**

They had met three times before they married. Once they had been mere children, the second they were in the bloom of youth and the third…the third encounter was the darkest and lightest of them all.

When he was eleven and grief stricken over the deaths of his parents, Eomer son of Eomund came to Edoras with his sister Eowyn. Eowyn was eight years old and so overcome by her grief that she would not talk, she would barely eat and Eomer had to hold her hand throughout every day. It was thought, by their uncle and cousin, that for Eowyn's sake she must learn to do for herself again. To do that, Eomer must be far away where she could not call for him.

So it was that Eomer came to accompany his cousin Theodred to Dol Amroth, a Gondorian state by the sea. Theodred had gone to discuss possible trade routes, though both parties knew they're talks would be fruitless without the consent of the Steward of Gondor. Denethor, at the time, was disinclined to help his brother-in-law and Rohan.

Still, Theodred had come to talk and it was well and good he had. Fate was made the moment Eomer crossed the threshold of Dol Amroth. When his cousin left him to his own devices, Eomer wandered about the halls of the magnificent palace. Everything was gilded in silver or mithril with emblems of graceful swans. He supposed it was the elvish blood in the Royal House that made this palace seem like such a peaceful place, hidden away from the ugliness of the world. For the first time in many days, Eomer breathed freely without painful constrictions in his chest. Perhaps it was the sea air, perhaps it was merely the calm that overtook him. Dol Amroth was alive with beautiful gardens and serene ponds, there was always the whisper of the sea's music reaching his ears.

While walking through the palace he heard the most beautiful music, it entranced him so that he followed it down many corridors and listened outside the door it came from for a goodly time. After years, it seemed, he heard another sound accompany the harp song…crying. Quiet crying. It disturbed him enough that he unceremoniously pushed open the door he'd been listening at to investigate the mournful noise. Inside the room sat a tiny dark-haired girl in a silver gown that spread out around her like a great sparkling puddle. She could have been one of the marvelous carvings in the walls, to Eomer's eyes, she was so delicate and flawless she did not look like a human child.

The girl was startled at his entrance and stopped playing her harp to stare at him, in the same heartbeat her eyes dried up and in her stillness she truly did look like a statue of an elf-child. He did not apologize for intruding, but rather watched her in silence, in awe, for the children of Rohan looked nothing like this. After a moment the girl asked for his name in a voice like a tiny bell, and gave her own for good faith. Though she did not call herself a princess, he knew this must be the youngest child of the Prince of Dol Amroth. Aside from the thin circlet on her brow and the richness of her gown, it was her quiet bearing of regality. She could not have been much older then his own sister, but she had the same air that Theodred had: separate from everyone by nature of the metal molded into a circle and laid on his head.

Eomer complimented her on her music and she resumed playing for him, thus was the rest of their day spent. It was not until the next day that she revealed why she had been crying. Lothiriel told him how her mother had died the previous year and she still mourned; he found himself recounting the deaths of his own parents. They spent hours comparing miseries and theorizing how they're lives had been altered irrevocably.

In a quiet contemplation Lothiriel said, "I shall never be kissed."

"And why shan't you?" Eomer was old enough not to recoil from the word 'kiss' any more.

"I will never love a man, or let any man love me. Too many people get hurt when they love. I don't ever want my heart to hurt again like it did when my mother died."

Considering this for a moment Eomer said, "You need not love someone to kiss them…though I think it must help."

"You don't?"

"No."

Lothiriel sat with her pink cheeked face in pudgy hands and thought hard on Eomer's words, her brow wrinkled with the effort.

"How do you know?" She eyed him wearily.

"I don't."

"Then why do you think that?"

Eomer thought on how to explain the situation to the young princess but could not gather words. His grasp on Westron had not yet fully developed and finally he decided action was better. With the shamelessness of youth he leaned in and kissed Lothiriel.

Instead of throwing a fit or making a face at him, Lothiriel gave a slight smile and said, "You might be right about kissing."

Though Lothiriel was the same age as his sister, Eomer found the difference less obvious and missed his friend when they left a few days later. Many years went by and Eomer kissed many more girls, though sometimes the memory of his first kiss with the elf-like princess would arise and distract him. He thought that it was strange that he now put so much thought into what to say to girls to get them to kiss him, but when he was eleven the most ridiculous of topics worked.

The next time he came to Dol Amroth with his cousin he was eighteen and newly appointed Third Marshall of the Mark. Once more Theodred tried to enlist the help of Dol Amroth, and once more Eomer was left to explore the palace at his leisure. Once more he was struck by the beauty of the place, a different brand of beauty then his home. Wandering, he wondered how the young princess had changed in the last seven years, he wondered how she looked now, wondered if she remembered him.

When he heard singing on a balcony he followed it, hoping that he might stumble upon the princess as he had years ago. As luck would have it, he found Lothiriel, her dark curls falling down her back, dressed in yet another magnificent silver gown.

"My lady, forgive me, I always seem to intrude on you making music." Eomer hoped that Lothiriel would remember him, when she turned and saw his face it was clear that she did for she exclaimed his name.

She looked very different from the little girl he had kissed long ago. She was a burgeoning beauty, her dark hair and bright eyes, her flawless skin, her perfect figure. He could tell she would break many hearts. They spent the remainder of the day recalling his last visit…at least Lothiriel was talking. Once more Eomer took to studying her, every moment which passed made him wish more powerfully that he had saved kissing her for this meeting.

The day turned into night when Lothiriel finally came to that kiss.

"I must say, milord, you made quite the impression. I don't quite know why I let you kiss me but I can say that when the Advisor's son tried to kiss me a month later I hit him in the face."

He laughed with her, trying to picture this demure, fragile looking creature hitting anyone in the face with much success.

"I suppose now you don't hit men in the face for trying to kiss you."

Lothiriel gave him a devious smile and leaned in to whisper, "No, the secret is to let my brothers do it for me, it works so much better."

With her face a few inches from his, he became painfully aware of how beautiful she was and said, "If that is your play I best warn you that you should call them…now."

With that Eomer claimed his second kiss from the princess of Dol Amroth. Much to his amusement, she neither summoned her brothers or hit him in the face. Instead she kissed him in return.

The next few days were a whirlwind of disappearing into niches where they could spend a few moments of undisturbed peace. Where the wars between the countries, the escalating threat of Mordor, the growing antagonism of Saruman, and the general darkness of life disappeared in the awesome power of the silver wings enclosing them. They stole beauty in a world of ugliness, and both were broken hearted when it came time for Rohan's party to leave for home.

It was on that ride back when Eomer mentioned Lothiriel to his cousin and asked if he thought it was plausible for a soldier to marry a princess? It had happened in Rohan, Theodwyn and Eomund were proof of that, but Gondor was a different place. It hurt Theodred's heart to say that by Gondorian law, royalty must marry royalty or a member of a high ranked noble family. A bid for a princess' hand by a soldier would be ignored, especially if the soldier was foreign.

Eomer felt the peace in his heart die at that moment and returned to his life of war with little happiness. He did not see the princess for many years. In fact, he was in his early thirties when he saw beside Eowyn's sickbed in the Houses of Healing and heard a woman crying.

It was very late at night and he had not thought anyone else was about, to distract himself from his own grief he followed the sound. In Lord Faramir's room he saw a dark haired woman in a gleaming silver gown. He was so overcome by hope, so surprised; he said her name aloud without stopping to think if it was really her and scared her half to death.

When she saw who it was that called her name, Lothiriel dried her tears and flung herself into Eomer's arms. They walked out of the Houses of Healing and into the dying gardens of Gondor where they spoke at length. She revealed that her cousin was Faramir, and he was gravely wounded and her uncle Denethor was dead, as well as Faramir's older brother Boromir who had died with the Fellowship of the Ring. He told her of Theodred and Theoden's deaths and Eowyn's life threatening wound; how he had been made King of a country when he had only ever been a soldier; how his men and he were joining with the other kings at dawn to march on the Black Gates and likely march to their own dooms. Hearing his tale, Lothiriel sobbed for him, she sobbed mightily as she had not cried for either her cousin or her mother.

Drawing her close, he tried to make her stop crying for he could not bear her tears, they wrenched at his heart. He was aware of the chaos around him, the death, the blood, the war…and yet the night for one moment as he held her seemed perfectly still. He recalled that he had always felt this sense of peace with her, that she was the face in dreams that knew no terror or pain, and he said to her, "For all the misery that has occurred to make me king, something good has come of it. When last I left you I wanted to marry you, but was a mere soldier and not worthy of a princess' hand. Now this unbidden crown shall give me what I most desire: to take you as my bride. I am a king, and I think it is beyond doubt that a king is a fair match for a princess but I ask you, _you_ Lothiriel if you would marry me should I live to see passed tomorrow. With you I knew some brief peace and I would gladly know that peace with you for the rest of my life."

Lothiriel answered him with a kiss that left no doubt as to her answer. Dawn was still a few hours away and the couple wandered through the White City, hiding in dark niches occasionally as though they were teenagers again. They found that with the prospect of Death looming over their heads, threatening to maul this fragile peace they had made around each other, that their frenzied kisses were not enough.

They found Eomer's room and debated for a breath on what to do. There, faced with death, faced with life, faced with troubles innumerable and ever increasing, they let love win. Come morning the King sat staring at this figure of his lover and for the first time in many months, Eomer prayed he would not die that he might return to her.

The battle fought was like nothing he knew, like nothing he ever wanted to know. It was the worst kind of evil striking you in the face. It was the stench of orcs and blood and sweat. It was the sound of blood pounding in your ears mingled with the crying of the fallen. It was seeing the whole world stained red. It was being faced with a nation of demons running at you, weapons drawn, and you are more then out numbered; at that moment you feel condemned. His most vivid memory of the battle was its ending, was seeing the great eagles swoop from the sky and in seeing their steal colored feathers his mind turned to different birds: the silver swan on every wall of the Dol Amroth palace and the dark haired swan he'd left wrapped in gold and green blankets, her silver feathers discarded.

After the victory that day, Eomer announced that he had taken Lothiriel as his bride. Almost as soon as the news was birthed the rumors erupted. There was confusion amongst the peoples of Dol Amroth and Rohan. Both wondered at why a marriage was arranged between two people who had never been officially introduced? Indeed two people that (as far as anyone knew) had never met before at all? Many thought if must be political, a gift of good faith towards an alliance between Rohan and Gondor. Others thought it of a darker nature. Dol Amroth's gossips, opposed to the barbarian king taking their only princess away, hissed that he had seduced and bedded her, and was forced into marrying her by an angry father or a loose-lipped midwife. The Rohirric gossips, still reeling from a Gondorian queen two generations dead but immortalized by their dislike of her, said that the princess used elf magic to bewitch the king into marrying her that she might gain power.

To their credit, Eomer and Lothiriel ignored such talk and basked in the truth: They risked everything based on a few moments of peace, and it made all the difference.

_Fin_.

A/N- Omg….I actually wrote and finished an Eomer/Lothiriel (smiles stupidily).

I like this….I don't know why, it's definitely not canon (and I'm normally quite hardcore about maintaining canon-within good reason) but I like how it came out.

They're so cute…I'm still mad at PJ for not having Imrahil or his sons or Lothy in ANY REMOTE PART of the extended R.o.t.K.

Well……how d'y'all like it?

PLEASE REVIEW!


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